


who would want to love someone that was so vile?

by gaybutokay



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, Fainting, Love Confessions, M/M, Panic Attacks, Past Abuse, Past Character Death, Past Rape/Non-con, Shinguji Korekiyo-centric, shinguji korekiyo's backstory, vent fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-17
Updated: 2020-07-17
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:28:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25338376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gaybutokay/pseuds/gaybutokay
Summary: **vent fic, please read the tags before reading.  i did not make this with the intentions to trigger anyone, but i did as a form of a vent.  i highly disprove of the ship 'korecest' or any other variations of the name.  korekiyo shinguji was heavily traumatized, and i tried to portray that with his inner dialogue.  do not misconstrue my message- this was to show that s/a victims are not broken goods.  if you are a s/a victim, i am so proud of you for getting past that trauma, and you are amazing.  you are deserving of all of the love in the world, and you're not a mistake because of what happened.  i love and care for you all- you are all valid.  my goal was also not to glorify anxiety attacks or fainting spells, two things which have happened to me.  please do not misconstrue my message.**it is hard to cope with his past, but maybe rantaro can help.
Relationships: Amami Rantaro/Shinguji Korekiyo, Shinguji Korekiyo & Shinguji Korekiyo's Sister
Comments: 11
Kudos: 110





	who would want to love someone that was so vile?

**Author's Note:**

> 800.656.HOPE is the national sexual assault hotline phone number (united states)  
> you are not alone.

to korekiyo, it made sense. who would want to love someone that was so vile?

humanity may be beautiful, but korekiyo knew that nobody would want to marry someone that had done what he had. he didn’t mean to, he didn’t know, he was too young- but none of that was enough to stop his mind from circulating in an endless stream of hurt and pain. there was no stopping the cycle of agony from spinning at a rate that was comparable to the speed of the wheels on the ambulance that carried miyadera away to the hospital as she took her final breaths. there was no stopping the agony that boiled in his heart with the passion that he previously felt for her, though he knew now that it was all superficial.

humanity’s beauty only reached a certain point, he’d concluded. there was nothing beautiful about the years fo abuse that he faced from his sister, and there was no way to work around that. try as he might, but there was truly no justification for the pain that he felt inside of him because of what his sister did to him. there was no way in hell that he’d ever recuperate from that trauma, and all he was to the outside world was ‘broken goods’.

what was it that was so perfect about her? why did he excuse her actions like they were simple stutters while speaking or trips while taking a step forward? why did he listen to each and every one of her words like they were verses from one of the several religious texts she made him read upon getting him into anthropology? why did he let her abuse him, use him, and violate him until all that he felt he was worthy of was the same treatment by others? it didn’t fit him- he was never scared to insult or tell his opinion to others, so why was he fearful of her?

indeed, it was strange. the same man that was able to threaten to tear somebody’s nerves out of their body was petrified at the thought of their own sister telling them that they needed to comb their hair. the man who knew that there was nothing more to humanity than bags of meat and bones creating their own culture, societies, and hierarchies, was so fearful of just one human. the same man that was one of the most intelligent in hope’s peak history was idiotic enough to allow himself to be used in such a manner. he was able to effortlessly wrap his mind around so many intense anthropological and psychological topics, so why was this one so difficult?

he had never felt normal. he never felt like anyone else would understand the pain of loving and losing someone so close to him. he never thought that it was possible to feel happy again- not without his sister’s touch upon his back, telling him that she apologized for the years of abuse and mistreatment, but nevertheless, he knew that would never happen.

sinners go to hell.

his thoughts were interrupted by rantaro’s smooth and soothing voice cutting through the silence he had created in his head, though the crowded classroom that they were in was filled to the brim with noise. ouma insulting iruma, and her vulgar retorts,,, chabashira scaring yumeno, while yonaga begged her to stop,,, momota, saihara, akamatsu, and harukawa’s group conversation, that’d by now become akamatsu and momota annoying harukawa and intimidating saihara,,, it was all a routine at this point- one that typically would involve korekiyo speaking to rantaro about his new project, his new interests, the school’s drama, or anything in particular. however, today, he was dead silent.

“…hey… kiyo..? i wanted to ask, y’doin’ alright? you seem out of it…” rantaro’s voice had genuine concern laced through his words, which made korekiyo’s aching heart feel like a bandaid had been applied to the shot wound. it wasn’t enough to fix it, but it did help in a minor form.

“…i would prefer to… st-“ do not stutter. do not stutter. do not stutter. what would she think of you, korekiyo? what are you doing? how pointless must you act? how pathetic can one man be? “…ahem… stay silent. i do not feel… as if… i am well.”

rantaro furrowed his brows, trying to read korekiyo’s expression, but his mask made the task impossible. “…want me to take you down to the nurse..? i’m sure tsumiki would be able to help ya’, she’s good at what she doe-“

“I AM FINE.” korekiyo’s typical soft and calming voice echoed through the classroom, jolting the commotion to a stop as everyone turned to face him.

all eyes on me. all eyes on me, what did i do? what is happening? where am i? who are all these people?  
he looked around the room again, watching as everyone’s face slowly distorted and shifted to a look of concern in their own ways. ouma’s smirk was replaced with a surprised expression, as he’d never heard the anthropologist yell. he sure as hell didn’t expect the first time to hear korekiyo yell to be in the classroom and not at him. iruma cowered in… fear..? he hoped that was what it was, anyway. kaede gave a glance of genuine concern, feeling her body walk towards the pair as she went to console korekiyo.

get away. get away from me, sister… this is not the place- this is not the time- this is- you are- you aren’t real! you are in my head! this is all in my head! this is never going to be the same- WE will never be the same! you and me were always beautiful- but you are gone! this isn’t you, sister! this is not real! i am not real! you are all not real… we are all not real… this is all a dream, korekiyo… this is all… so…

black. a blanket of pitch black surfaced over his eyes as he felt himself collapse onto the floor. anxiety attacks were not uncommon for korekiyo, but they sure as hell were terrifying for others to witness. the typically levelheaded anthropologist panting in his seat was scary to watch, and his gasps for air were bone-chilling, but when he had hit the floor with a thud, that was when everyone knew something was wrong.

-

“…i think he’s up,” yumeno’s meek voice commented as korekiyo lifted his eyes.

“yeah. i see those eyes, dude! you’re fine!,” momota said in a motivational tone, trying to lift the spirits of the class.

korekiyo awakened to seeing all of his class in the nurses’ office with him, alongside tsumiki from the class below them. she smiled at the sight of yet another patient well after her care, a few strange noises pouring from her mouth as a form of self-praise. 

“…right. you guys should go back to the dorms, it’s getting kind of late,” rantaro commanded as he waved a hand in the direction of the door. most of the class sprinted out, way ready to go to sleep after hours of worrying about korekiyo, but rantaro stayed by his side.

“…how long was i asleep, amami..?”

“hm, ‘bout all day. it’s almost eleven at night now.”

korekiyo cleared his throat out of embarrassment. “…you all watched over me all day long..? my apologies, that was awfully rude of me to keep everyone aw-“

“nah, don’t worry about it. as a matter of fact, everyone agreed to watch ya’ and make sure you were okay. hell- even kokichi and miu agreed to come without being told. we all wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“ah. in that case, i thank you all,” korekiyo said as he finally opened his eyes, making eye contact with rantaro.

they’d never made eye contact before, and korekiyo only made eye-contact with his sister- never anybody else. this was strange… why did he feel so warm in his chest?

“no need to thank us. we jus’ wanted to make sure you were okay.”

korekiyo remained silent, basking in the attention from rantaro’s eyes upon his. the non-verbal conversation that was occurring between them was different than any connection that korekiyo had with miyadera in the past… though he did enjoy it.

“…right. so, the nurse said she doesn’t think y’should be alone for the time being… in case it happens again. mind spending the night in my dorm?”

“i am alright with that. so long as you are…”

“hey, i offered it, didn’t i?” rantaro held out his hand for korekiyo to grab. “c’mon, it’s gettin’ late.”

korekiyo held rantaro;s hand, and noticed that the adventurer did not let go of his hand, but rather intertwined their fingers together as to hold it tighter. 

“y’know we all love you, right?”

korekiyo remained silent.

“…y’know i love you, right?”

and to that, korekiyo smiled under his mask. 

“…i love you, as well.”

and he knew at that moment why he felt so happy around rantaro. he knew why everything felt right around him- he loved him. 

the anxiety that he felt wasn’t about love in general- it was about his sister, and the pain she caused. he was able to be loved, even if he didn’t realize it yet. there was so much that he had to offer, and someone noticed that. someone could see though his faults, his detriments, and his problematic behavior. someone realized that he was more than his past.

someone would love him. someone did love him. and he wasn’t vile. he was just hurting.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading  
> ily


End file.
